


X. Control

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, During Canon, Established Relationship, Kinks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-08
Updated: 2006-09-08
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam has more patience than Dean gives him credit for. Tenth in the Trust Series





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

CONTROL  
By Shorts

Sam peered over the book he was reading and watched Dean pace. Having cleaned every gun and sharpened every knife they had, there wasn’t much left for Dean to do to distract himself. The suggestion to play in the snow had been a momentary distraction, but the weather had turned for the worse, closing all the roads and highways. Suppressing a sigh, Sam carefully closed his book and placed it on the table next to the half eaten pizza still in its box.

Pulling back the curtain for the hundredth time, Dean glared at the white out that mocked him. “You know, I really hate this white shit.”

“Glaring at it isn’t going to make it vanish,” said Sam, rising from his chair and standing next to Dean to look out the window.

“Oh, like you’re the pinnacle of patience,” snapped Dean, brushing past Sam and flopping onto his back on the bed. Even the T.V. showed white static, having lost its reception as the storm built up outside.

“I certainly have more than you right now,” said Sam, folding his arms and looking down on Dean. He was bored, mindlessly bored, but now it was a matter of pride not to let Dean know.

Dean pursed his lips, latching onto an idea that would help pass the time trapped in the motel room. “Maybe more patience, but less control.”

Sam’s eyes narrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” smirked Dean, settling into his second favorite pastime, baiting baby brother.

“No,” said Sam, taking a step closer to the bed and Dean. “You’re insinuating something here and I want to know what you meant.”

“It’s no big deal,” said Dean, hiding his grin with effort. “You’re younger than me and haven’t really learned much control. Don’t get me wrong, as long as you have the needed accessories you do have amazing control when you give it your best, but sometimes . . .”

Sam’s mouth dropped completely flabbergasted. “Excuse me? Mr. Lets-Shoot-Everything-That-Moves?”

“I’m not talking about hunting,” said Dean, completely inured to Sam’s comment about his tendency to throw everything he has to keep a death dealing demon from killing him.

Tilting his head slightly, Sam furrowed his brow trying to decipher the jab Dean was making, and he _knew_ that Dean was insinuating something.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” continued Dean, enjoying the set up.

“What the hell do I have to be ashamed of?” demanded Sam, stalking closer to Dean and the bed.

“Nothing!” said Dean, grinning. “I just said that you didn’t.”

“Which you mean that I do,” said Sam, starting to feel pissed off.

Lifting himself to recline on his elbows, Dean sighed dramatically. “It’s just that, well, I know it’s hard for you not to shoot off the mark too fast.”

“Shoot off the . . . ,” understanding struck and Sam lunged.

Dean started laughing, catching Sam as he landed on top of him. “God, you’re so easy.” He used Sam’s momentum to carry him over and rolled on top of him.

“You’re such a shit,” wrestled Sam, rolling them back over, pressing Dean into the mattress. He had to admit, this was better than staring at a book.

“I’m right, though,” snickered Dean.

“You’re _not_ right,” argued Sam, grinning back at Dean despite the slam to his manhood. Moments like these were few and far between. The still moments when Dean wasn’t walking the knife’s edge, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and burying the anger until it had to find an outlet or erupt in some self destructive way.

“Gonna prove me wrong?” challenged Dean, dodging Sam’s attempt to pin his arms.

"You’re asking for it," said Sam with an exasperated chuckle, trying to maintain his balance as he straddled Dean on the bed. He clamped his thighs tight on either side of Dean’s waist, while attempting to capture both of Dean’s wrists.

“Obviously,” said Dean, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “The question is; do you think you can deliver?” He bucked slightly to make his point. 

“I’ve done it before, I can do it again,” said Sam. He felt the constriction of denim of his growing erection as Dean shifted beneath him. “But I get to decide how we do this.” 

Dean thought it over, and nodded. “Okay, but you have to wear my jacket.”

Pressing his lips tightly together, Sam glared down at Dean smirking up at him. “Fine.”

They studied each other for a long moment, then Sam yanked his shirt over his head. He looked down as Dean fumbled with his buttons. Impatient, he grabbed Dean’s shirt and pulled, scattering buttons everywhere.

"What the hell!" Dean frowned, looking at his shirt and then up at Sam. "You’re the one sewing the buttons back on."

"Screw the shirt," said Sam. He went for the snap and zipper of Dean’s jeans.

Dean was bounced on the bed as Sam tugged free his jeans. He tried to smother the laughter that threatened to bubble out at the single minded determination of his brother.

Sam slumped back to sit between Dean’s legs and struggled to free himself of his own jeans. Leaning further back, he slipped off the edge and fell.

Scrambling on his hands and knees, Dean peered over the foot of the bed. “Graceful as ever.”

“Shut up,” growled Sam, kicking his legs free and standing back up.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” asked Dean, rising up to his knees barely in time to meet Sam’s tackle.

Sam pounced, effectively knocking Dean flat on the bed. He roughly kissed him, pushing his tongue deep into Dean’s eager mouth. “Roll over,” he breathed into the kiss.

Dean swallowed, reluctant to lose contact with Sam’s lips, but he turned over. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Sam blanketed his back. “Jacket, Sammy.”

Resting his head on Dean’s shoulder for a moment, Sam pushed back and climbed over Dean’s legs to the chair where Dean’s leather jacket hung. He slipped it on, a shiver running through him as he was engulfed by Dean’s scent mixed with the leather. Narrowing his eyes, he bent down and fumbled through the duffel bag until he found what he was looking for.

Eyes closed, Dean smiled as Sam once again climbed back on the bed and straddled him, settling comfortably on the back of his thighs.

Sam ran his hands up Dean’s back and over his shoulders and guided him to relax his arms along his sides. Timing his move, he cuffed Dean’s wrists behind his back. 

“Hey!” Dean’s head jerked up and he tugged against his restraints.

“My way, remember?” grinned Sam, enjoying the expression on Dean’s face as he glared back at him over his shoulder.

Dean grimaced as Sam lifted his hips and placed pillows beneath his stomach.

Sitting back on his heels, Sam nudged Dean’s legs apart as far as they would comfortably go. He grinned as he flipping open the cap on the bottle of [ stimulating lubricant ](http://www.edenfantasys.com/TANTRIC-LOVERS-STIMULATING-LUBRICANT-/adult-toys-dvds-18904-1)he had purchased. Carefully coating his fingers, he rubbed them together, feeling the slight tingle.

Dean let his eyes drift shut as Sam’s fist encircled him and slowly moved from root to tip. The slick gel eased the smooth slide and he hardened under the almost too light grip.

“You’re gonna love this,” said Sam, removing his hand and adding more lube to his fingers. 

Despite the release of his erection, Dean felt an increasing warmth, accompanied by an unexpected sensation.

Spreading the slick gel over Dean’s heavy balls, he trailed a path with his finger upward and circled the small opening.

Shifting as the gel was applied, Dean tried to press his hips downward to rub against the bed. “What the hell is that stuff?”

“This?” asked Sam, picking up the bottle. He leaned forward and held it in front of Dean so he could read it.

Dean’s eyes widened at the implications of what he was in for.

“So, how is it working?” asked Sam, sliding two fingers inside Dean.

The unexpected ache of being stretched by two fingers, caught Dean off guard and he could only groan as Sam continued to work his fingers further inside him. The warm tingling extended from the tip of his erection to deep inside him, causing his sensitive balls to contract tight to his body at the sensation. 

Spreading the lube generously, Sam curled his fingers, rubbing over the tiny nub nestled inside.

Dean jerked against the cuffs, twisting as Sam relentlessly stroked over his prostate. He tried to bring his legs together to push away from the intensity of Sam’s fingers, but found them held apart by Sam’s thighs.

Placing a firm hand on the small of Dean’s back, Sam held him in place while he continued to increase the speed and pressure of his fingers moving inside him.

A deep, guttural groan was forced from Dean’s lips as he twitched helplessly as his nerve endings fired jolt after jolt through his body. Clenching his hands into fists, he strained against the metal keeping his wrists trapped behind him.

The sight of Dean squirming had Sam aching to sink deep into the twitching passage that clamped down on his fingers.

“Sam . . . Sammy . . . god . . . please,” choked Dean, tears of frustration clung to his eyelashes as he squeezed his eyes tight against the over stimulation.

“Please what?” asked Sam, leaning on Dean’s back and nuzzling his neck. The move caused him to twist his hand, bringing another low moan from his brother.

“Fu . . . fuck me,” choked out Dean.

“Thought you’d never ask,” said Sam, easing his fingers free. Scooting closer, he lined himself to Dean’s opening and slowly pushed forward.

Dean gritted his teeth as Sam increased the pressure, finally breaching the tight ring that hadn’t been stretched far enough with the play of his fingers. Gasping he breathed through the throbbing ache.

Leaning forward, Sam felt himself slip further inside as he wrapped his arms around Dean’s chest and lifted, straddling him on his thighs that forced Dean’s bent legs to spread him open. He felt himself sink deep inside Dean’s body as he hugged him close.

Dean’s own weight impaled him on Sam’s cock and he arched as he was stretched and filled until he was flush against him. His own erection stood hard and weeping as he shuddered.

Sam stretched back an arm, supporting both their weight as Dean leaned against his chest. He was thankful for the additional three inches in height he had over Dean as he nuzzled the crook of his neck. “Damn you’re tight.”

Dropping his head back on Sam’s shoulder, Dean shivered as Sam ran his hand over his chest, sharply twisting his nipples to hard peaks.

Limited in his movements with Dean’s weight anchoring his bent legs, Sam rocked their bodies to shift his cock slightly in and out. He ignored the pressure of Dean’s bound hands against his stomach and altered the angle of his hips until he was brushing against Dean’s sweet spot.

Dean tensed as his overly sensitive prostate was teased by the short, firm rocking. He felt exposed as he was forced to arch forward due to his hands being confined behind his back.

Sam ran his hand down Dean’s stomach, and fondled him with the tips of his fingers before fisting him with firm strokes. The enticing scent of leather and Dean’s twitching muscles had him rocking his hips faster to satisfy the teasing tingle that now coated him.

Turning his head to the side, Dean strained toward the orgasm that was building. His breathing quickened and his muscles clenched in an effort to reach the edge and tumble over.

Sensing Dean was near to coming, Sam removed his hand from Dean’s cock and placed his palm flat on his stomach to hold him close.

“No . . .,” groaned Dean at being denied.

“You just have to say the word and I’ll give you what you want,” breathed Sam, against Dean’s ear. He inhaled deeply Dean’s warmed scent that mixed with the scent of his leather jacket.

Dean pressed his lips together, struggling against speaking. The steady rocking had his muscles trembling as he was kept on the edge.

“I thought not,” smiled Sam. Shifting forward, he eased Dean down onto the pillows. Gripping his hips firmly in his hands he slowly eased out, then slammed back inside. The jacket swung with his motion, its weight comforting.

A grunt escaped Dean from the force of Sam’s thrust. Biting his lip, he willed himself not to utter the word that Sam was driving him to say.

Sam continued to withdraw slowly, only to slam back inside Dean’s twitching opening. Gradually he leaned forward until he rested along Dean’s back, his arms wrapped tightly around him. The result was Sam once again sliding firmly over Dean’s abused prostate.

Unable to take any more, Dean choked out his safe word. “ _Compatior_.”

Sam froze, then eased himself upright. Searching for the key to the cuffs among the tangled sheet, he unlocked Dean’s wrists, rubbing the red marks that indented the tender skin.

Swallowing hard, Dean supported himself on his hands and pushed back into Sam. “Don’t leave me hanging here any longer,” he gasped.

Bending forward, Sam started to thrust, keeping his rhythm steady as he fisted Dean’s cock and stroked him in time. He slid his thumb over the tiny slit with each upward slide, bringing Dean over the edge.

Spent, Dean collapsed back onto the pillows, small whimpers passing his lips as Sam strove toward his own release.

Finally allowing himself the pleasure of the leather brushing against his skin, Sam arched into the passage clamping down on him and he crested his climax, bucking erratically into Dean as inner muscles spasming around him.

Dean grunted as Sam’s weight dropped heavily on top of him. At that moment the lights went out. “Oh, my god,” he groaned. “I’ve gone blind.”

Sam slapped him on the ass. “The fucking electricity went out.” He forced himself to move off of Dean and rolled onto his back next to him.

“I honestly think you’ve fucked me senseless,” sighed Dean.

“How would I know?” teased Sam. “You have a tendency to drop a few I.Q. points after sex.” Unable to see the pillow Dean swung at him, it smacked him in the face.


End file.
